For the curmudgeon in us, there was plenty to kvetch about this Christmas. The mysterious powers that be in the regulation of international enterprise have updated some labeling, which means that tacky Christmas pens that will inevitably break easily, fail to make marks on paper, and wind up in the trash now sometimes come labeled “Causes cancer and reproductive harm.” One wonders how these splendid flashing plastic thingamajigs contribute to the groundwater once buried in the local landfill.
Such are the Scroogey complaints I have indulged in after being encouraged in that frame of mind by the darkly funny rant from Walter Kirn. He’s quite amusing writing about the 70-year-old juicer in perfect working order. He adds:
“I can’t say the same about my coffee grinders. I use the plural because I’ve owned a lot of them, all bought in their original packaging and dead within a year. They’re good ones, supposedly, with burrs not blades, but they stop performing before long, ending their long journeys from overseas factories in unmarked graves in my local Montana landfill. I have a whole ghost kitchen in this landfill, and soon I will need to reserve a bigger plot.”
I wonder to what extent all this junk has contributed to the fascination with minimalism. Getting rid of stuff certainly seems appealing when faced with the endless influx of cheaply made knick-knacks that are sure to break and (we now discover) are known not only to the state of California to cause cancer and, it turns out, reproductive harm.
Rather than despair, we can try to stand in the gap. Give homemade, recycled, experiential presents. If you didn’t this year (confound it! I admit I was given an Amazon gift card and was seduced into the purchase of three presents from that behemoth peddler of junk!), there is always next year. Any present that does not add to the piles of toxic garbage surrounding us and expanding our landfills is a step in the right direction.
Additionally, Kirn had one item that wouldn’t give up the ghost: the 1940s juicer. Now is a great time to do estate sales and thrift store shopping for the items that were built to last and foolishly discarded by aspiring minimalist descendants. Minimalism is good and all, but we still need pans to cook on and belts to hold up our three pairs of pants. You can read more such inspiring thoughts at the Federalist.
